


Nicknames [and All They Imply]

by UzbekistanRules



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Nicknames, Reversewatch, remembered trauma, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UzbekistanRules/pseuds/UzbekistanRules
Summary: Two different people used nicknames in Hanzo's life. He learns of some. Remembers others.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HELP I AM IN TOO DEEP WITH THIS VERSE. I DO THIS TO MYSELF AND THAT'S WHAT HURTS THE WORST.
> 
> Ever and always this verse belongs to [heronfoot.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Beldam/pseuds/Beldam) Please give them a lot of love and support! [and if you like this, maybe a comment or two?]

After too many days- or weeks, or months or _years_ \- in the company of Deadlock in general and Jesse McCree in particular, Hanzo could only conclude that they were an irreverent lot. Few things were sacred to them: from personal space to belongings, from love to hate, from life to death. Almost nothing was done for the individual. Nearly everything was done with the wellbeing of the gang as a whole in mind.

Surely, the elders would have approved if they were not so _crass._

And the worse offender of the lot was their leader. Hanzo felt as if he could write an entire book series on the cowboy’s many failings: from his personal hygiene to his business sense. Today’s griping however, seemed to be focused on his insufferable use of nicknames. Even when they were first learning of each other, Jesse refused to call Hanzo by his assumed name of Tsubaki. And as they got to know each other better, the problem only grew, not lessened.

But... There was a method to the madness. One Hanzo had slowly come to learn, and one that he doubted Jesse was even consciously aware of.

Everyone was “darlin’” to McCree, regardless of rank or status. From new members of his gang to those who had been with him since the beginning; even complete strangers. Rich or poor, old or young, friend or foe: if the person was breathing [and sometimes when they weren’t], they were a “darlin’.” Even McCree’s second in command was “darlin’,” and the man was built like a stone wall with all of the personality to match

_Hanzo frowned as Genji flirted with the young ladies. A charmer, as he ever was. Calling them sweet nicknames, whispering in their ears, rubbing their hands over their young bodies... he should be ashamed. Clearly he wasn’t, which made this all the more shameful. When one of the girls asked about him, Genji looked over to Hanzo and shrugged. “Han-tan? Eh. Don’t worry about him. Just keep your eyes on me and he won’t bother us any more than he feels he must.”_

“Sugar” was for only when McCree was trying to wheedle something out of someone- usually an extra slice of pie from the proprietress of the Deadlock Diner. He’d whine and moan and nurse his coffee and outright lie for an extra slice of huckleberry pie fresh out of the oven- served of course with two hunks of cheddar cheese and a scoop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream. And fresh coffee, to boot. Five sugars. The man had a sweet tooth that Hanzo had only seen in one other.

_“Ha-chaaaaaaaaaannnnn,” the youthful voice of his brother called out, wrapping his thin arms around his ankles and staring up at Hanzo’s face pitifully. “I know Otou-sama said not to let me have any more but I want more! Please? I love taiyaki so much!” Hanzo never denied him of course, even when he got in trouble himself. Genji’s smile was always worth it._

“Honey” and “baby” were reserved for those Jesse held in contempt. The young fools who thought they could best their boss, the other leaders from up and coming gangs, the morally upstanding cops who didn’t understand how the world worked just yet. He mocked them before he showed them how he did things- either with words, with fists or with bullets. It was always a tossup between the three. Hanzo threw his hands up in figuring it out and always came in prepared for a gunfight.

_These days, they were always fighting about something. Everything under the sun was within their purview- from Genji’s drinking problem to Hanzo’s workaholic attitude, to the weather to their father’s last days. The writing was on the wall, and everyone could see it. Father was dying a slow death and everyone was scared. Even Genji. Even Hanzo. And every time that Genji finished the fight, he smirked and bowed and called his brother “Shimada-sama” while staring him dead in the eye._

“Son” and “boy” were usually said through gritted teeth as Jesse stared down a fool about to be shot for his insolence. This was where Hanzo learned that the smooth talking cowboy could be just as deadly as anyone else in Deadlock. More so, for he was ruthless to those he considered his enemy. Though he would not attack women or children, he would make them pay dearly in place of his intended target. That was... until the pawns fell in line. Or they wound up dead from that terrible power pent up in Jesse's left eye.

 _“Traitor!” Genji screamed as steel squealed against steel. “How could you even think about killing me?” he raged as Hanzo's sword was knocked from his hands. “Your own brother!” he shouted as Hanzo tried to flee from the scene, not bothering to try and clean up his mess. “Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!” he roared as the green dragon came forth. Too late, Hanzo turned to see green-_  
_white-  
_ _nothing._

 

\- - - - -

 

“Cielito” was new. Hanzo had never heard Jesse say that to anyone else before. He wasn’t even sure that was a _word_ until he confronted a dictionary and a low ranking member of Jesse’s gang. “Little Heaven.” How could he say that about a monster? A thing that had contemplated killing his own brother, a creature who had lived and died and lived again thanks to the efforts of a psychotic doctor and the budget of the world. A machine who had organic parts. A man who was broken in body, mind and spirit. A coward who could do nothing but try and serve the family who repudiated him from the shadows. Once... Once he may have been worthy of that nickname. But no more. No longer. Not after what he did.

_“Hanzo, this is your new brother. Say hello.” Honestly, the baby looked like a wrinkled old man. But he was fast asleep and Otou-sama had given the orders. He gently touched Genji’s tiny little hand as a quiet way of greeting. And those itty bitty fingers wrapped themselves around one of his own. He couldn’t help it. Something came over him and he knew that he had to do this. Quietly to himself, he made a vow. His brother would never know hunger or thirst or hate or anger. He would stay like this forever._

_“Welcome to the world, Jii-chan,” Hanzo whispered over the sleeping head before gently kissing it._


End file.
